Epocalypse: Inception.

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Epocalypse: Inception. Page 1

by G. Adler




  Epocalypse : Inception

  G. Adler

  First Montag Press E-Book and Paperback Original Edition 2016

  Copyright © 2016 by Gary Adler

  As the writer and creator of this story, Gary Adler asserts the right to be identified as the author of this book.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law. However, the physical paper book may, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, or hired out without the publisher’s prior consent.

  Montag Press 978-1-940233-38-3 (Print Book)

  Montag Press Team:

  Editor – Mara Hodges

  Cover Design – Charlie Franco

  Book Design and Layout – Badger McInnes

  Ebook Design - Camilet Cooray

  Managing Director – Charlie Franco

  A Montag Press Book

  www.montagpress.com

  1066 47th Ave Unit #9

  Oakland CA 94601

  Montag Press, the burning book with the hatchet cover, the skewed word mark and the portrayal of the long-suffering fireman mascot are trademarks of Montag Press.

  Printed & Digitally Originated in the United States of America

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s vivid and sometimes disturbing imagination or are used fictitiously without any regards with possible parallel realities. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue - DANE

  Chapter 1 - Hayden

  Chapter 2 - DANE

  Chapter 3 - General Matthews

  Chapter 4 - DANE

  Chapter 5 - Hayden

  Chapter 6 - DANE

  Chapter 7 - General Matthews

  Chapter 8 -General Matthews

  Chapter 9 - Hayden

  Chapter 10 – DANE

  Chapter 11 - Hayden

  Chapter 12 - Hayden

  Chapter 13 - DANE

  Chapter 14 - Hayden

  Chapter 15 - General Matthews

  Chapter 16 - Hayden

  Chapter 17 - DANE

  Chapter 18 - Hayden

  Chapter 19 - General Matthews

  Chapter 20 - Hayden

  Chapter 21 - Hayden

  Chapter 22 - Hayden

  Chapter 23 - Hayden

  Chapter 24 - DANE

  Chapter 25 - Hayden

  Chapter 26 - General Matthews

  Chapter 27 - Hayden

  Chapter 28 - General Matthews

  Chapter 29 - Hayden

  Chapter 30 - General Matthews

  Chapter 31 - Hayden

  Chapter 32 - General Matthews

  Chapter 33 - Hayden

  Chapter 34 - General Matthews

  Chapter 35 - Hayden

  Chapter 36 - Hayden

  Chapter 37 - General Matthews

  Chapter 38 - Hayden

  Epilogue - DANE

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  For those around me who knew that I could and those long gone

  who believed that I would.

  Prologue - DANE

  A small, flashing, green light pulses with the steady rhythm of a strong heartbeat. The room is dark, cold, and empty.

  Blink...blink

  Blink...blink

  Program initiated; estimated time to load primary functions, T-minus 672 hours, zero minutes. Mark.

  Blink...blink...blink, blink

  Blink...blink...blink, blink

  Who am I? What am I doing here?

  Chapter 1 - Hayden

  This is it. I know exactly what I am doing…and GO!

  I sneak around to the side of the building, ducking below the window that peers into my English class. The light coming out of it makes me nervous. I take extra care just in case my teacher is actually in there. I then roll to my right and crouch down as low as I can to be sure that I’m not picked up by the exterior camera that is attached to the wall above. They’ve doubled in number over the past year. I smirk triumphantly. Why is it that the answer to every problem is always better detection? Three billion dollars a year is shoplifted from Walmart so what do they do? They install a Las Vegas-esque security system to catch it. They probably waste double that dollar amount to keep it up and running and for what? To catch a few Blu-rays from walking out the front door? Pathetic, just like this place. I’m definitely going to have to post something about this when I get back.

  The camera pans in my direction and I check my watch, timing the forty-five seconds it takes for it to make a full sweep of the area. I use the moment to catch my breath and adjust my Go-Pro, making sure that it is firmly attached to the crosspiece on my right shoulder. It wobbles slightly and I grimace. I reach into my pocket, grab a stick of gum, and chew on it ten times, being sure to count it off accurately.

  One arachnid, two arachnid, three arachnid…ten arachnid.

  I pull the wad out of my mouth and tease it between my fingers to check the consistency. I smile and jam the sticky concoction into the hole around the base of the camera.

  That should hold for the night. I’ll fix it permanently when I get back to the base. I count down the remaining few seconds and wipe the sweat away from my forehead before taking off once more.

  This better work or my informant is dead! Exposure of his cheating ring will be the least of his worries! He told me that the night caretaker always leaves the second floor window open, the one just above the garbage bins. That way he can enjoy his evening toke without going outside and still hide the smell — yet another scandal I hope to expose. If this actually works, it will be my best haul yet! This would ramp me up to the next level for sure.

  I make my way to the back of the building, hide behind a dumpster, and glance upwards. A tiny curl of smoke comes from the window, followed by a lot of wet-sounding hacks and wheezes. I wait below and record the entire thing while timing how long he takes. A good reporter knows that the devil is always in the details. Besides, drug stories always attract a ton of attention. Rob Ford taught me that one. Damn those Canadians know how to party! The pungent aroma of marijuana wafts down from the window and mixes with the garbage. I cover my mouth and stomach at the same time. Everyone knows that this guy is a stoner; we just couldn’t prove it…until now. Louie always looked like the kind of guy who could party both Robert Downy Jr. and Keith Richards under the table. I’m surprised the guy can climb the stairs with lungs that sound that messed up!

  Not my problem — I have bigger fish to fry tonight!

  I pull out my harness and cinch it around my waist. I glance nervously around the corner and see that the coast is all clear. With shaking hands I carefully slide one of the massive bins away from the wall, revealing a few metal rings glistening against the bricks. I snap the carabiners around my climbing ropes into the anchors on the wall. There is a clicking sound of metal on clay as my hands try to steady themselves. I complete the job as quickly as possible and go flat against the wall for a few moments, holding my breath. I remain perfectly still for a moment and wait.

  Wouldn’t that be ironic? What if this sound got me caught while the ramset in the brick went unnoticed the other afternoon. I guess it’s a good thing that it sounds like a starter pistol or I would have been screwed. Gotta love regularly scheduled gym class!
Apparently everyone’s asses are too fat. They can speak for themselves. I have been told by quite a few girls that mine is rather yummy.

  I swallow hard and pull at the ropes, making sure that they are secure while sweeping the area once more. The trail of smoke finally slows and I hear Louie’s cancer-call fade down the hallway. The light in the biology lab snaps on along with sounds of a DVD being played. Moments later and he’s giggling to a health class video.

  What a loser. People are going to eat this up!

  I yank at the rope and pull myself hand over hand up the wall. The pulley that I am using squeaks at every tug and I curse under my breath. It forces me to go slower than I would like, causing the rope to shift back and forth while I dangle in midair like a puppet on a string. A gust of wind blows across the building and I become Pinocchio while Geppetto is having a seizure. I stifle a gasp with my hand as a sound from below stops me fast and I hold my breath. It almost sounds like a woman talking to a baby.

  “Is snoogie woocums ready to make her evening pee-pee poo-poo? That would make Mommy so happy!”

  What the fuck?

  Ms. Lindt, our principal, appears around the corner, walking her pet pug. She is wearing a gaudy purple blouse with a floral print and a matching knee-high skirt; making her look like an over-ripe, bloated plum with arms and legs. She bends down on one knee and speaks to the beast with the same voice my sister Abby used to take when she had tea parties with her stupid teddy bears.

  “Come on, princess. Mommy has an important event to attend and she needs to put you in your special crate, but you need to go first!”

  The stupid mutt just stares at her and lets out a loud fart. At least one of them sounds intelligent. I am so glad that I am recording all of this. I’m going to get thousands of hits off this footage for sure! I shake back and forth with the effort that it takes to stop from laughing.

  “Would it help if Mommy shows you how it’s done? Would that help to remind you what I need you to do? It’s almost dark and nobody ever comes around back here anyway.”

  My eyes go wide and my jaw drops open. She didn’t just say what I think she…

  …and right on cue she lifts her skirt and drops her cream-colored granny panties to her black, flat shoes. She then stands tall over a patch of concrete and places her hands on either side of her crotch, positioning her fingers in a purposeful manner. She does that for a few seconds before letting it all flow out in a confined beam that would make any guy proud of himself. The yellow stream hisses and steams as it passes between the dog’s legs. The stupid creature just bends his head and starts lapping it up. Ms. Lindt cries out, “No, no bad princess! Don’t drink Mommy’s golden showers!”

  Oh my fucking God. I am going to be an overnight internet sensation... guaranteed. I might even get on Survivor! This is going to be huge!

  The dog looks up and stares right at me. My eyes go wide with fear. I tighten my grip around the rope and act like I am a gargoyle attached to the building. It fixes its gaze and starts to snarl its teeth. Instinctively I flash it the ugliest face that I can manage to contort. It yelps, pisses itself, and tries to run away. Lindt slides through the piss trail and almost topples. Damn, that would have been a great finish.

  I finish the climb and pull myself into the open window, emerging into the science department’s office space. I keep as low as possible and make my way past the bio lab. I peer inside and notice that Louie, the caretaker, is passed out cold on the couch in the corner of the room. The television is showing a blank blue screen. There is a wad of crumpled Kleenex on the floor beside the couch. I don’t think he was crying nor does he have a cold. That’s when I see the tube of Vaseline beside him.

  Nasty… but useful.

  I run back to the first room and pull out the black bag I stashed under one of the desks. I carefully put on the blue janitorial suit that just barely fits over my six-foot frame. I flex my arms and can hear the pop of a few seams as the cheap fabric strains under the bulge from my biceps. I then grab the blond wig and think back to Louie lying on the sofa in the other room. I rip out a few more of the yellowish strands on the top of the wig and rub it over the upper shelf of one of the bookcases, being sure to smudge a good amount of school dirt over the thinning skull area. I pull it on top of my head and make sure that my dirty blond curls are safely tucked inside. I top it off with a beat-up Toronto Maple Leafs baseball hat and check my disguise in the pocket mirror I brought along. I grimace at my reflection. I didn’t bother to bring my brown contact lenses to hide my grey eyes, but who looks a caretaker in the face anyway? Instead, I slide my hand over the tops of a few filing cabinets and slap the result on each of my cheeks to hide the exposed freckles. I remove the Go-Pro from its makeshift rig and hide it in my pocket but not before I attach the “button camera” I created to go with it. I use my phone to do a quick check of the feed to confirm that it is working.

  It better be…everything that happens next is going to be caught by it!

  With the camera up and running, I attach the button to the front of my suit and glance in my mirror one last time. I can’t help but smile at my work of art. Louie’s mother wouldn’t even know the difference.

  I grab the mop and bucket from the biology lab and my subterfuge is complete. Louie’s snores mean that I should have a few hours to spare. I carefully descend the stairs and make it to the main floor without seeing anyone. Just to be safe I begin to limp on my right side as I stalk towards the auditorium. A loud applause sounds in the distance and I tighten my grip on the mop handle while I quicken my step as much as possible. I caress the flash drive in my pocket and make sure it is secure.

  I spent too much time scaling the wall and now I might miss my window. That clap means that I only have minutes to spare if I am going to make the switch and pull this off.

  I round the bend that leads past the main office and notice that two of the senior class skanks are standing in front of the trophy case, admiring their slutty reflections. I stay put for a moment and hope they will leave soon. They adjust the padding in their bras and shellac their faces with handfuls of makeup as they insult one another. I wince at every vapid, under-cutting statement that they make.

  “Come on, Nicole. That applause means that the district superintendent is done with his boring speech and they are going to do the graduation montage and awards soon. I’m sure to win the cheerleading trophy this year!”

  The other girl smirks and raises one of her eyebrows. “Maybe that’s because Bobby Winters helped stretch out your thighs! He told me all about it when I was going down on him the other day.”

  Nicole sucks her teeth at the other girl and goes back to applying her lipstick before replying. “By the way, Cassandra, your dress looks, like so pretty! It’s amazing what you can find at a thrift shop these days!”

  “Thanks Nicole, oh and I should tell you that the foundation you are using is great; it almost completely hides your acne.”

  “And your dress fits you perfectly. You can’t even see your rolls!”

  “Who did your hair? It is so much nicer than your usual mop.”

  “Where did you get your bra? If it can make your tits look like that, then imagine what it might do for someone who actually has a chest!”

  They stop what they are doing and look at one another like competing tigresses. Ultimately they start to giggle and finally hug. They then finish troweling on their war-paint and rush away.

  These two are friends? Ouch!

  I breathe a sigh of relief and make my way past the gilded cabinet. I scoff as I look at the titles etched into the hardware inside of it. The only awards that should be handed out in this place should be for hazing and handjobs! Convocation is always the same. There is no way I am going to mine next year, at least, not in any kind of official capacity.

  I turn the corner and head into the auditorium. I immediately hear Ms. Lindt’s voice carryi
ng over the speaker system. “…the world is in a constant state of change. It is like a river that is always flowing.”

  A river of piss no doubt.

  “Our students need to be prepared to meet the needs of tomorrow before they happen. They need to be creative thinkers to solve any and every problem.”

  Like how to get your dog to pee on command?

  I start to shake with the effort it takes to contain my laughter. Most people glance my way and then immediately look away. Being a janitor is like the ultimate backstage pass. You are let in everywhere and then are completely ignored. It’s like being an invited ghost. I grab a program off the floor and check the convocation itinerary.

  The graduation video is scheduled to be played right after the Phys. Ed teachers reward all of the varsity assholes. I look up and see the volleyball team waiting to head up to the stage. I don’t have much time.

  I ignore the rest of Lindt’s speech and head to the projection room at the back of the auditorium. I pull out a key that I forged in shop class using a wax impression I made from the lock. I stare at the tiny piece of metal and sigh.

  This is my “do or die” moment. I didn’t have a chance to test the key before now. Either it opens the door and this happens, or I slink out of the room with prank egg all over my face.

  I slip the key into the lock. It gets stuck for a moment and I hold my breath. A gentle shove, and it makes it past the tumblers and slides into place. I turn the lock to the right and the door opens without a sound.

  Wicked.

  The computer and LCD projector are already turned on and a video file is already cued. I quickly insert my flash drive into a USB port and wait for it to upload. The computer indicates that it will take thirty seconds for the file to load. I stand and stare at the screen intently as the seconds tick by, practically willing time to move faster. Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice Mr. Nozer, my science teacher, until he was right behind me.

 

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